Guarding Hope
by Cryptonomos
Summary: 11-year-old Aragorn/Estel wants to be treated like an adult. Elrond just wants to keep the future hope of the west alive. When Aragorn tries to sneak off with a passing a group of thirteen dwarves, Elrond knows he needs to get someone to watch him, but who will Estel allow to stand guard over him?
1. Part 1

**Author's note:** Until he was 20, Aragorn neither knew his name nor his parentage. Fostered by Elrond, he was given the name Estel which means hope.

* * *

Everything went wrong with the first shot.

Estel hadn't even intended to take it. He had been instructed by Elrohir to merely observe the orcs and find out where they were encamped, but the orcs had been upwind and oblivious to his presence. Then one of them had to stick his big fat head out like a pointy-eared melon and Estel-who already had an arrow nocked and drawn just in case-had simply let go.

The arrow had buried itself in the orc s eye and punched through the back of his skull, just as when Estel's father had been slain by an orc. The surprised orc collapsed without a sound and a couple more orc heads popped up and looked around, apparently unsure of what had happened.

Estel quickly nocked and drew a second arrow, but his target spied him and ducked as he let the arrow fly. Another orc behind the first, peering into the gathering dusk, was struck in the back. He fell with a howl and a dozen snarling orcs popped up ready to counterattack.

Estel turned and fled into the broken lands of the Trollshaws. It was the worst possible time to start a fight with orcs. The twilight would soon give way to full night and the orcs would have the advantage.

He did his best to remember the lessons his foster brothers Elrohir and Elladan had tried to teach him of riding, shooting and hunting. He scampered from brush to rock to tree, pausing just long enough to wound an orc or two before hurrying away. He led the orcs in an outward spiraling circle, always trying to keep them off guard by attacking them from the side.

The orcs apparently caught on to his tricks. He paused behind a rock, nocked another arrow and leaned out to find a target. Two black arrows buzzed past like angry hornets, one of them slicing into his drawing shoulder. It immediately began to burn and Estel cursed himself as he turned and fled. Elrohir or even Elladan would have been happy to overlook this little transgression. They hated orcs more than anyone. But the arrowhead was almost certainly poisoned with orc feces, which meant a healer would have to attend to it, and that meant Elrond would find out. Estel wasn't going to hear the end of this, from Elrond or his mother, for some time.

Estel scampered up a cleft in a nearby ridge. He knew Elrohir was camped somewhere nearby and he hoped he was moving in the right direction. Black orc arrows clattered against nearby stones as he made for the summit. Once at the top, he paused to shoot back at his pursuers, not taking the time to aim a killing shot, but only seeking to wound another and slow their pursuit. He scrambled down the far side and circled around the hill hoping to take them again from an unexpected direction.

The orcs were lined up along the cleft, peering cautiously over the top. Arrows took the lead two in the side of the head and they fell. Everyone turned to the source and Estel saw his brother Elrohir standing boldly tall and proud in his elven warrior s robes. Estel quickly drew and shot, killing two more orcs.

The orcs looked around. With a third of their number no more than corpses tumbling down the hill and with half the remainder wounded-with one proud elf warrior drawing back his bow and who knows how many more hiding in the brush, the orcs did what all orcs do in such situations. They turned and fled with wailing cries, throwing down their bows as they scrambled over the rocks.

Estel and Elrohir took down two more orcs, and finished off the slower of the wounded. When they had finished, Elrohir lowered his bow and glared at Estel. "I thought I told you not to engage the orcs."

Estel shrugged with an apologetic smile. "How could I not when they asked so politely. I am generous to a fault."

Elrohir glared at him a moment longer, then gave a single barking laugh. "Still, it was well done. We must hurry back to Imladris though. If we don't make it back before sunup, father will have my head."

Estel glanced at his bleeding shoulder. "I fear it's already too late to escape his wrath."


	2. Part 2

At Elrond's command, Elrohir and Elladan practically frog-marched Estel into Elrond's study. Elladan closed the door and his brothers waited silently behind Estel as Elrond stood with his back to them reading a scroll, ignoring them.

He's probably counting to ten, Estel thought. Despite the fact that no one had spoken, there was no chance he didn't know they were there. The seconds ticked by. Perhaps, it is twenty, Estel thought as Elrond remained focused on the scroll. Estel began to worry when nearly a full minute had passed. He must be very angry.

Elrond sighed and closed up the scroll. He carefully placed it in a scroll rack which Estel thought looked like-and would have been better served as-a wine rack. Elrond turned and stared at them, his face expressionless. "And what do you have to say for yourselves?"

Elrohir shrugged, apparently having decided to brazen it out. Elladan looked at his feet, as if contrite, though he wasn't directly involved in the latest incident. Estel knew better than to open his mouth.

"Did you not understand my instructions?"

Elrond never got loud when he grew angry. In fact he got quieter and more intense. Elrond's anger was a rare and frightening thing to behold.

"You asked us to teach him how to ride and to shoot and to hunt." Elrohir tossed his twin brother a look as if seeking confirmation, but Elladan didn't look up. Elladan hadn't actually been with them on their last outing and appeared to be trying to weather the storm of Elrond's wrath by pretending he wasn't there now.

"And to avoid the orcs!" Elrond's voice was nearly a hiss.

"That is sometimes difficult in the Trollshaws," Elrohir said.

Elrond glared at Elrohir, but Estel interrupted him before Elrond could scold him.

"It was my fault, my lord. I was careless and my bowstring slipped."

"Don't 'my lord' me!" Elrond snapped. "I raised you as one of my own. I expect better of you."

Estel started to reply, but Elrond cut him off.

"And how came you to be aiming an arrow at an orc anyway?"

"An excess of caution, father."

Elrond shook his head. "I can see your two brothers are insufficient guards for you. I suppose I'll have to find a third to watch over you night and day."

Anger rose up in Estel. "I'm old enough to take care of myself. I'm certainly too old to require a nursemaid!"

"You are eleven years old! Even by the standards of your mother's people you are considered young."

Estel lifted his chin defiantly "But I am already as tall and strong and as good an archer as many of your warriors."

Elrond gave Elrohir a sceptical look.

Elrohir nodded, assuming a false expression of regret. Estel could see his brother's amusement twinkle in his eye.

Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I don't have time to deal with this. Our scouts have reported that Mithrandir is on his way here and is bringing uninvited guests. Dwarves!" Elrond looked up. "You three are restricted to Imladris until I decide what to do with you. Do you understand me?"

"All three?" Elladan asked, sounding surprised that he was included in the ban.

"Yes. And you," Elrond looked pointedly at Estel, "Are to stay out of sight while our guests are here. I am trying to keep you safe. If anyone learns of your existence here, I'll have to find another more hidden place to keep you."

Estel swallowed. He knew there were many dark and unpleasant places in the world and that Elrond, with his years and experience, probably knew a lot of them. He also knew one other thing. Elrond never bluffed.


	3. Part 3

The dwarves were a strange and dour folk. Estel watched them enter Imladris, scowling suspiciously at everything around them. He scampered along bridges and roofs and leaped from balcony to balustrade as he followed them through the streets. Elrond had only commanded him to to not be seen, which meant-as far as he was concerned-that he could still spy on them as he wished.

The elves of Imladris seemed to take the dwarves grim response to their fair land as both an affront and a challenge. Estel overheard many of them making wagers, offering large sums of gems or jewelry or art or other favors to the first one who could make a dwarf laugh. Elrohir even offered one of his horses to the first person who could get a dwarf to dance.

As a result, the elves lined the streets of the city, singing their silliest songs, capering and dancing as the dwarves entered. Estel found himself smiling along even as the antics grew to the point of embarrassment. Unfortunately all of this had the opposite of their intended effect. The dwarves only grew more uncomfortable and withdrawn, though the lone wide-eyed hobbit with them seemed to drink it all in with an awed expression.

Estel watched them over the next few days, growing bored until he heard whispered fragments of a secret quest, a dragon, and lost dwarven treasure. After that, he watched them more carefully and took notes and contacted a tailor.

Two weeks later, at the height of summer, Mithrandir started the dwarfs on the path from Imladris to the Misty Mountains. Once more the elves lined the streets and sang and danced and threw flowered garlands at their retreating guests. Elrohir was among those near the gate, wishing them safe journey and mocking his fellow countrymen by sitting astride his unclaimed horse.

Estel pushed through the crowd to the front. He walked hunched over to conceal his height and tried to imitate the dwarves' rolling gate. With the hood of his dwarven style cloak pulled up, he must have blended in well with the dwarves cowering from the enthusiasm of the elves, for he was just as eagerly assaulted with songs and flowers.

If Elrond truly doesn't want anyone to know I'm here, Estel thought, then the best solution is for me to not be here. Besides, he'd heard numerous tales of Mithrandir's exploits and he knew these dwarves were headed off to some sort of grand adventure.

Mithrandir and the hobbit had already passed through the gate. Estel followed the dwarves, unnoticed, beneath the very noses of Elrohir and Elladan. If they have not been able to spot me, then no one will, for who knows me better? Estel thought. He resisted the urge to straighten until he should have passed the gate. But as the gates' shadow fell upon him, so also a hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

Estel halted and looked cautiously over his shoulder into the stern face of Elrond.

"Did you not think I knew how to count to sixteen?"


	4. Part 4

The normally calm and reserved Elrond paced back and forth in his library. Elrohir stood at attention with his brother Elladan awaiting his wrath. Elrond had already spoken to Estel who sat, shaken, in the outer room while Elrond finished up with the rest of his sons.

Elrond stopped and leaned, forward his hands on his desk. "What should I do?"

This stunned Elrohir. Instead of the wise and venerable elf lord, Elrond suddenly seemed like a distraught father. Elrohir and Elladan exchanged cautious looks.

"Pardon?" Elladan said.

"It has been two millennia since last I've had to deal with a youth. How can I make him understand that all of this is for his own safety?"

"He's a boy," Elrohir said. "You can't cage him in Imladris any more than you can lock a horse in its paddock and refuse to let it run. The world may indeed be a dangerous place, but what preparation will he get by locking him away here?"

"He may be a boy," Elladan said, "but he will not long remain one. He grows quickly in the manner of his kind. Already he has the heart and the desires of a man."

"Heart and desires of a man," Elrond muttered shaking his head. "They were always a dissatisfied lot. Alas that my brother could not see it."

Elrond looked up, seeming to have come to some sort of decision. "All that you say is correct. And you have done well in teaching him how to ride and hunt and shoot. But if he is to take his place, as I have foreseen, as the last hope of the west, he must learn temperance, patience and wisdom. If only I had the time to teach him, or he the patience to learn from my hand." Elrond drifted off in thought until Elrohir broke the standing silence.

"So what, then, shall we do?"

"You shall go and bring Estel in," Elrond told Elrohir. "And in the meantime, Elladan, go and bring your sister who has newly returned from her mother's people."

Elrohir opened the study's door and poked his head out. Estel sat on a nearby bench, kicking the ground in boredom with the heel of his boot. "Ai! Orcbane! You're wanted within."

Estel rose and entered, head bowed in studied contrition, though Elrohir thought he saw a stubborn defiance in the set of his jaw.

"You asked for me, father?"

Elrond gestured to a chair and Estel sat, eyes downcast. "You know I have the gift of foresight."

Estel nodded.

"And I have foreseen a future of you as a great leader of men."

Estel looked up with a curious expression.

"Unfortunately, it seems I have not done my part in preparing you for it."

"That's not true," Estel spoke up. "Elrohir and Elladan have taught me well."

"To ride and hunt and shoot, that's true. But there's more to being a leader than such things. A leader must also possess knowledge and wisdom and self-control. Do you know how to defend yourself with temperance or wield patience as a weapon?"

Estel looked skeptical.

Elrond sighed. "Since you are so skilled at evading your other tutors, I will give you a new one who will be like a shadow to you."

Estel grew sullen. "I believe I've already said that I neither need nor desire a nursemaid."

"Never the less-" The study's back door opening interrupted Elrond. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, then turned back to Estel with a smile. "This is your sister Arwen. I believe you were quite young when she left."

Arwen glided into the room on Elladan's arm. Her glossy black hair framed a white face with a smooth and perfect complexion. Her eyes, though grey, still shown with a reflected light. Seeing them, she smiled, transforming her almost-distant-even abstract-beauty into something warmer, closer and more personal.

Elrohir found himself smiling in response, but Estel gaped, wide-eyed, his mouth slipping open, forgotten.

"Arwen, this is your younger brother, Estel."

Arwen released Elladan and smiled down on Estel. "Hail and well met, brother."

Estel stared at her until he remembered himself, closed his mouth and held out his hand as if he expected her to clasp it.

With a laugh, she rushed forward and swept him into an embrace, clasping him to her bosom. "I have missed you little one."

"...not so little anymore..." Estel mumbled from within the fold of her arms.

"I would like you to tutor Estel," Elrond said. "Teach him the wisdom and patience his brothers cannot."

"Hey!" Elrohir objected.

Arwen held the red-faced Estel at arms length. "It would be my joy to teach him."

"Is that well with you, Estel?" Elrond asked.

With a goofy grin, Estel nodded repeatedly.

"The 'heart and desires of a man' indeed," Elrond muttered.

* * *

**Author's note:** I know that according to the official account, Aragorn did not meet Arwen until he was twenty where he instantly fell in love with her at first sight. The excuse was that she was away for at least the last twenty years visiting her grandmother. Twenty years seems like a long time to be away from family and friends, even for an elf. I know my own kids get bored after only a couple of days at their grandmother's.

I find the cliche of love at first sight both unnecessary and unlikely in this case, considering she was his sister. Did Imladris have no painters? Did he truly not know his own sister? It seems to me that Aragorn and Arwen should have a more complex relationship.

I confess I also find amusement in their 2,000+ year age difference. I wished Aragorn was born even 8 or 9 years later than he was because I have a secret desire to see Peter Jackson include in his next Hobbit movie a scene in Rivendale with Arwen in the background dandling her diapered future husband on her knee.

Yes. The strangest things amuse me.


End file.
